The Brief

To create an education system that has stable funds for mental health, California educators and leaders are turning to the health system and launching a statewide behavioral health initiative to fill funding gaps in fluctuating, sometimes unpredictable school budgets.

“The health systems and the education systems are not bound together successfully enough to make sure we engage in both prevention and treatment,” said David Gordon, a commissioner at the Mental Health Services Oversight and Accountability Commission. “That’s particularly true for the most underserved communities.”

Funding for mental health in California public schools typically has come from general education budgets, a reason funds have never been stable. As the need for more mental health services and specialists skyrockets, administrators and experts are turning to the health system to better serve needs that existing education budgets just can’t cover.

Schools bridge some gaps by placing nurses, social workers, school counselors and psychologists on campuses, but there’s never enough money to fully meet student mental health needs. Without a built-in, statewide system to fund mental health in schools, districts are left to figure it out themselves.

“We’re so used to trying to provide external funding to fund us to some sort of equitable level for every student,” said Loretta Whitson, executive director of the California Association of School Counselors. “It’s never been the general fund will cover us — it’s just sort of baked into the cake.”

It’s been that way since at least the late 1980s, when Whitson began her education career, she said.

The Local Control Funding Formula, legislation that changed the way education was funded in California, created more funds for mental health and “a more holistic view and review of schools,” Whitson said. “But if there’s not enough money to go around, then school district administrators need to make very hard decisions.”

If districts have to rely on general fund money for mental health providers, it creates competition with funding for teachers and education programs, Whitson said. If budgets had more funds specifically for mental health, it would mean more money for education.

California doesn’t mandate districts to provide school counselors, social workers, nurses or psychologists, but it is encouraged. Some experts say mandates could ensure there would be mental health specialists at every school. But that goes against the idea of local control, Whitson said, which allows districts to make decisions based on their community’s needs and resources.

Grants for mental health have helped, but it’s not sustainable, Gordon said. School districts will receive grants for a few years or even less, and when those dollars run out, the services or mental health specialists do too if districts don’t have money to keep them going.

Similarly, districts turned to pandemic relief dollars to boost staffing for school counselors, social workers, psychologists and nurses, but those funds expired in September.

Nonprofits and community organizations have stepped in to help fill needs at lower costs, put therapists on school campuses, and taken over doing burdensome paperwork. But if the services aren’t free to school districts, then most money for mental health has to come out of the education budget.

Blending two systems

Gordon credits Gov. Gavin Newsom’s Children Youth and Behavioral Health Initiative for beginning to merge the health and education system. The goal for two major systems to come together is reachable, Gordon said, “but it will take a lot of coordination and collaboration.”

A key component of the behavioral health initiative is to support partnerships between Medi-Cal managed care plans and schools to increase access for children receiving Medi-Cal — nearly 5.7 million kids in 2022. Another goal is to increase access to early interventions and preventative mental and behavioral health care.

The behavioral health initiative was part of the Budget Act of 2021 and the governor’s Master Plan for Kids’ Mental Health. The California Department of Health Care Services will invest $4.7 billion over multiple years in youth behavioral services.

According to the master plan, more than 240,000 children cope with depression, and 66% don’t receive treatment. Suicide rates among 10-18-year-olds increased by 20% in 2019-2020.

Efforts to implement the behavioral health initiative started in January 2022. So far, hundreds of millions of dollars in funding have been disbursed to dozens of organizations for training and retention of providers, loan repayments and scholarships to increase providers in underserved areas.

But some of the funding is distributed as grants and won’t last long, Whitson said.

“I think it’s important to consider: How do we sustain this? A lot of programs come in as temporary programs, so seed money,” Whitson said. “We look at sustainable money as Medi-Cal a lot of times.”

The amount of money school districts can bill to Medi-Cal recently increased, thanks to new legislation. The California Education Code was updated in January after AB-2058 passed, allowing districts to bill Medi-Cal for mental health services provided by school counselors.

A 2018 statewide count of school counselors tallied about 11,000, Whitson said. She estimates there are about 14,000 now.

“School counselors are one of the biggest billing forces in the state. It should be bringing in quite a bit of money,” Whitson said. “It could be used to lower the caseloads on all levels — social workers, psychologists, school counselors.”

However, the process for school districts to bill Medi-Cal can be long and cumbersome.

Sometimes districts won’t get a full refund, and it could take a few years before the money is returned, said Marlon Morgan, founder and CEO of Wellness Together, a nonprofit that brings mental health providers to school campuses in California and New York.

“Schools are pretty reticent to use that billing option because they could end up spending $1 million but only get $500,000 back,” Morgan said. “If you’re on a school board and looking at ways to stabilize your budget and to know what to expect, that’s a huge wild card, and frankly one that doesn’t get used very often.”

In Sacramento County, schools are partnering with the Sacramento County Health Department to have one mental health provider at every school, said Gordon, who is also the superintendent of the Sacramento County Office of Education. The partnership works well because the county health departments already manage Medi-Cal and Medicaid plans — which insure more than 60% of people in the county, he added.

The purpose isn’t only to provide direct services at schools, but to have someone from the health system stationed at schools interacting with staff, students, and families every day, Gordon said. The goal is to have “centers of wellness and prevention, rather than a center of let’s go out and seek treatment for a problem that should’ve been caught many years ago,” he said.

Some organizations are combining billing insurance and grant funding to bring providers to schools. Campus Clinic, which aims to remove barriers to health care access by putting providers at schools, has brought mental health providers and other physicians to 14 districts and more than 600 schools in California, said Thomas Shaffer, the organization’s founder and president.

Most districts haven’t had to foot the bill. Campus Clinic started paying for all the costs, Shaffer said, and was able to sustain its offerings through billing insurance, including Medi-Cal, and applying for grants. One burden Campus Clinic and other similar organizations lift from districts is handling the paperwork and billing.

“We aim to complete, not compete, with existing resources,” Shaffer said.

Still, the need for mental health services and providers is too great to catch up with demand. Campus Clinic is contracted with 28 more districts that are still in the planning stages, Shaffer said.

Campus Clinic also offers universal health screenings that allow schools to quickly identify which students are showing signs of anxiety, depression and risk of self-harm, Shaffer said. Schools can see responses through a dashboard that includes real-time notifications for students who are at risk of self-harm. Campus Clinic has teams that start reaching out to families to offer services.

But it doesn’t come without challenges. Building trusting relationships with families so they feel comfortable accepting services can be an uphill battle.

‘The cultural and trust piece’

Officials at Feaster Charter School in Chula Vista saw immediate results after Campus Clinic gave universal mental health screenings to students in grades six through eight in May.

Out of the 350 students, roughly 40% were identified as having some level of anxiety and depression, said Karen Haro-Esparza, community school coordinator.

Teams at Campus Clinic started contacting families right away, Haro-Esparza said. Although it’s a huge help, it also created challenges — “the cultural and trust piece.”

“Because they are not a regular part of our staff, when Campus Clinic communicates with families, they have a lot of questions,” Haro-Esparza said. “Our challenge has been, ‘How do we educate families further to destigmatize and normalize the partnerships?’”

The stigma around mental health — especially among people of color and different cultures — is one reason families or guardians don’t seek or access resources for students. Something most mental health experts working in education can agree on is the importance of maintaining trust among schools, providers and families.

“It’s not just putting money out to buy services. It’s working to try to put the systems together so that they’re relating and families will come to know and trust the medical system even though they aren’t located in their community,” Gordon said.

Campus Clinic providers aim to become part of the school community, Shaffer said. One strategy Campus Clinic providers use is to rotate through different classrooms to speak with students about health and wellness for 15 minutes to become more familiar and create connections.

Wellness Together is investing in interns to diversify the workforce and build trusting relationships between communities and mental health providers, Morgan said. Before mental health professionals receive their licenses, they need to complete hundreds of hours that typically are unpaid — some programs won’t even allow future providers to have paid internships.

Morgan, who started his career as a school counselor, said he’s seen dozens of people never get their licenses because they can’t afford to work for free. It contributes to the lack of diversity in the behavioral health workforce, he said. Now, the nonprofit has more than 30 partnerships with universities in California to ensure interns are paid liveable wages and receive benefits.

Campus Clinic pays interns working toward their licenses to be social workers, clinical and mental health counselors, licensed marriage and family therapists, and a pupil personnel services credential.

“The biggest challenge is finding staff and making sure the staff reflects the communities they’re serving,” Morgan said. “By paying interns and paying associates, we now have an option and an opportunity to really hire the best person for the job and often hire a person who is local and from the community.”

Raul Malo, the leader of the country band The Mavericks and one of the most recognizable voices in roots music, died Monday night, according to a representative of the band. The guitarist and singer had been battling cancer.

He was hospitalized last week, forcing him to miss tribute shows staged in his honor at the Ryman Auditorium over the weekend. He was 60 years old.

"No one embodied life and love, joy and passion, family, friends, music and adventure the way our beloved Raul did," read a statement released by his family.

Malo's group, The Mavericks, mourned the loss of their leader in a social post.

"Anyone with the pleasure of being in Raul's orbit knew that he was a force of human nature, with an infectious energy," the statement read. "Over a career of more than three decades entertaining millions around the globe, his towering creative contributions and unrivaled, generational talent created the kind of multicultural American music reaching far beyond America itself."

Over a career that lasted four decades, The Mavericks lived up to the band's name, challenging expectations and following a roadmap crafted by Malo's expansive musical upbringing as the son of Cuban immigrants in Miami.

"I grew up in a very musical household. There was all kinds of music around always," he told WHYY's Fresh Air in 1995. "We listened to everything from Hank Williams to Celia Cruz to Sam Cooke to Bobby Darin. It didn't matter."

In 1992, Malo told NPR that his widespread influences weren't always understood or appreciated in his South Florida hometown, but he said that his struggle to fit in taught him to trust his instincts. Malo had become the guitarist and lead singer for The Mavericks in 1989, alongside co-founders Robert Reynolds and Paul Deakin, and his roaring, sentimental voice defined the band's sound and remained its constant as the group's catalog moved from slow, tender ballads to full-throttle rock songs. In 1995, the band released its biggest hit with "All You Ever Do Is Bring Me Down," a swinging country song featuring an assist from Tex-Mex accordion legend Flaco Jimenez.

As the band grew in members and devoted listeners, The Mavericks continued to push the boundaries of American music, weaving a richly layered tapestry of textures and stories. With more than a dozen studio albums, The Mavericks collected praise and recognition from the Academy of Country Music, the Country Music Association and the Recording Academy. Although they took a hiatus for several years, Malo never stopped making music — and returned to his bandmates with renewed inspiration.

Following its 30th anniversary, the group released its first full-length Spanish album in 2020, aptly titled En Español. The record reimagined Latin standards and folklore-tinged popular tunes; it also made an implicit political statement about Latin music's contributions to American culture.

"In our own little way, if we could get somebody that perhaps is on the fence on issues and hears us singing in Spanish and perhaps reminds them of the beautiful cultures that make up what this country is trying to be and what it should be, so be it," Malo told NPR at the time. "Yeah, I'm OK with that."

The following year, the Americana Music Association recognized The Mavericks with the Trailblazer Award. In 2024, the band released its last studio album, Moon & Stars. The release coincided with news of Malo's cancer diagnosis, which he discussed openly with NPR's Ayesha Rascoe.

Before being hospitalized last week, Malo had been scheduled to perform with The Mavericks at a pair of tribute concerts held this past weekend at the legendary Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. Over 30 artists, including Patty Griffin, Jim Lauderdale and Steve Earle, still gathered to pay tribute to Malo, with some of the proceeds of the night going to the cancer prevention organization Stand Up To Cancer.

According to his spokesperson, though Malo was too ill to attend, the concert was streamed to his hospital room Friday night.

Copyright 2025 NPR

The Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department has mostly blocked efforts to investigate misconduct within its ranks, according to the county inspector general, who announced his retirement Tuesday after 12 years on the job.

In an open letter, Max Huntsman cited examples of how the county has thwarted his efforts to watchdog the department, which in the past has been plagued with accusations that deputies use excessive force and lie on the job.

Huntsman said one example is former Sheriff Alex Villanueva’s misuse of criminal enforcement powers to discredit critics, such as opening an investigation into former County Supervisor Sheila Kuehl.

Villanueva was sheriff from 2018 to 2022.

“My requests for investigation were rejected,” Huntsman’s letter reads. “Even after receiving an official subpoena, the Sheriff’s Department has failed to turn over records regarding the improper surveillance.”

He added: “Sometimes members of the public wonder if frightening new surveillance techniques will be used for improper purposes under the guise of criminal investigation. Sadly, the answer is yes.”

Before becoming inspector general in 2013, Huntsman, 60, was a deputy district attorney who specialized in public corruption. He told LAist on Tuesday that the inspector general job wasn’t something he wanted initially.

“I didn’t want to go work for politicians,” he said. “But the need to provide some kind of independent reporting and analysis was significant.”

The Sheriff’s Department issued a statement saying it valued the Office of the Inspector General and all county oversight bodies and that it wished Huntsman and his family well in his retirement.

The department said it “continues to make great strides in advancing the department in a transparent manner.”

LAist also reached out to the county CEO and county counsel for comment, but they declined.

After George Floyd

In the letter, Huntsman says the state of California has come a long way in strengthening the power of local law enforcement oversight bodies, in part because of the 2020 murder of George Floyd by police in Minneapolis.

After widespread protests — and lobbying by Huntsman — the state provided authority to inspectors general to enforce subpoenas requiring law enforcement agencies to hand over documents and authorized external investigation of police misconduct, including deputy gang conduct.

The Sheriff’s Department — backed by county lawyers — has resisted.

“Los Angeles County may not follow those laws, but it will not be able to avoid them forever,” Huntsman wrote. “The county refuses to require the photographing of suspected gang tattoos in secretive groups that the undersheriff has identified as violating state law.”

“Just a few weeks ago, we requested some information regarding an investigation, and a pair of commanders refused to give it to us,” Huntsman said in an interview with LAist.

Origin of the office 

The Inspector General’s Office was created by the county Board of Supervisors in 2013 in response to a scandal that included former Sheriff Lee Baca covering up the abuses of jail inmates.

Baca went to federal prison.

Since then, the office has issued dozens of reports with recommendations for improving living conditions inside jails that some have described as “filthy,” stopping abuses of juveniles inside juvenile halls and providing shower privacy for inmates as part of the requirements under the Prison Rape Elimination Act.

“All of these abuses were reported by the Office of Inspector General and recommendations were ignored,” Huntsman wrote. Often, it took court orders to enact change.

“When we first blew the whistle on the torturous chaining of mentally ill prisoners to benches for 36 hours at a time, it was only a court order that ended the practice,” he wrote. “Time and time again, this pattern repeated itself.”

Huntsman wrote the county has permitted the Sheriff’s Department to block oversight and defunded the Office of Inspector General by removing a third of its staff.

“It's not surprising the county has driven out two successive chairs of the Sheriff Civilian Oversight Commission,” he wrote.

“Government always claims to value transparency and accountability, but shooting the messenger is still the most common response to criticism,” Huntsman wrote.

Despite setbacks, Huntsman values work 

Huntsman told LAist on Tuesday that he was proud of his career as a public servant.

“I’ve really enjoyed the work and I’m sad to have it end,” he said.

It’s a sentiment he echoed in his letter, adding that despite the setbacks and roadblocks, he was proud of the people with whom he shared the office.

“It has been my honor to work with a talented, brave and tireless group of public servants to ensure that the public knows what its government is doing,” he wrote.

He noted the inspector general’s reports are fact-checked by the office and public.

“When government abuses occur, they are sometimes kept secret, but that is no longer the case for much of what is happening in Los Angeles County,” Huntsman wrote. “What you do about it is up to you.,”

Huntsman’s last day is Friday.

Topline:

The backstory: Last month, the council's Transportation Committee voted to bring a proposal forward to implement a policy change that allows the city to impound and immediately destroy abandoned or inoperable RVs worth less than $4,000. The change is inspired by new state law AB 630, which was created to prevent previously impounded RVs from ending back up on the street.

The motion, authored by Councilmember Traci Park, reports that abandoned RVs pose as public and safety hazards.

What's next: Councilmember Nithya Raman requested that an implementation plan be presented to the council's public safety and housing and homelessness committees.

Go deeper: L.A. pushes policy to make it easier to remove RVs from city streets.